


I Dance Beneath The Diamonds' Sky (Holding Hands With You)

by ISeeTheLight



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Ordinary AU, Sad, Smut didn't fit the mood - sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5389583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ISeeTheLight/pseuds/ISeeTheLight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis learns that healing is a difficult process; and Harry teaches him that being scarred doesn't equal being scared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Dance Beneath The Diamonds' Sky (Holding Hands With You)

This wasn't how his mother would have imagined her funeral, Louis thought bitterly. Jay had been the complete antonym of black in every fiber of her entire existence - always seeming to sparkle and glow, even as a single mother of three, even when she got sick.  
At the thought of her proud, teary-eyed smile the day the doctors had told her she had finally combat the cancer, a lump formed in his sore throat. He swallowed it down, face motionless, staring straight at the queue of mourners jostling around her open grave.  
Black. The perfect silence suffocating all of it like a wet cloth terrified him.

It was his turn to step forward and throw a single flower onto the cold and frozen earth. And frozen he felt as well - dry from crying over the goddamn futility of it all for days. A cold fire had long ravaged his insides.  
He bowed his head mechanically, robot-like, as his hands swiftly let go of the delicate yellow snowflake he only now realised he had been clinging to.  
_What an impeccable metaphor for their relationship was this last salute to his mother._ No, he instantly corrected - the body below him, enclosed in cheap wood and dirt, was not his mother. It was a piece of slowly rotting flesh, features barely recognizable from the pain the tumor eating her up had caused during her last days. She had still tried to maintain her proud smile, even if it faded more with every passing minute.  
His flower had become one of many down there, part of a blooming yellow flood.

Louis did not notice the hot tears streaming down his face or how his thin inferior lip quivered - not until his own hand was firmly taken by a much larger one and he was slowly guided past the rows and rows of headstones, each marking the end of another lifetime of memories and experiences alike and now forgotten forevermore. He was trembling, brain still numb.  
The first thing he felt again was the warm flame flaring in his chest, beneath all the grief and darkness and that thirst for revenge that knew no target, as Harry grasped his dainty shoulders, wide green eyes filled with so much more than just sympathy.  
"You know", he murmured gravelly, "you know what snowflakes symbolize?" He didn't know; of course he didn't.  
"A new beginning love."

They clung to each other as if they were drowning, completely captured in their own little world.

 

+

 

Two weeks, three days and a couple of hours since the passing of Louis' mum. Life had gone on, and even though a part of him still seemed to be missing and he felt more bruised and vulnerable than ever with every tiny mouthful of air he inhaled ---- at least he _had_ learned to breathe again. 

 

At the moment, he was standing in front of their shared - and, to be honest, his chaos had by far trumped Harry's meticulously stacked order two weeks into moving in - closet. The previous night just before finally falling to an uneven sleep, he had made the resolution to wear something other than black, even if he still felt like crouching in a Corner 24/7.  
A sleek blue button down it was, he decided. He took it from the hanger with shaking hands, only then noticing it was the one his mother had given him for her last Christmas. The smooth fabric was still crisp and unworn.  
He buried his nose in it, hesitantly, as if groping at first; and out of all sudden he was captured in her ever so energetic embrace again:  
The familiar vanilla scent of her hair, replaced by a colourful headscarf for her last years, and the soft warmness of her surging bosom, and the high-pitched tinkle of her laugh.

He closed his eyes - this already felt more real than his last encounter with the skinny shadow of her former self Jay had become.

Harry stood in the doorframe, archaically, like he was sailing a boat on choppy seas. His face mirrored the whirl of emotions flooding his mind at that moment, but he had always been sensible when there was a need for it.  
"The colour is wonderful, love." He cleared his throat, slowly gaining confidence on the thin ice he was slithering on. "Do you think you could use some breakfast?"  
Louis turned his head, tears glistening moistly in his eyes and on his sharp cheekbones. But as he answered, he smiled sincerely, despite the strained sound of his voice: "A little breakfast sounds great." And hesitating, attempting in vain to sound misschievous: "Try not to let the tea brew too long, chéri!"

God, how Harry adored this man.

 

+

 

A week later, Louis got a text from Harry:

  
pick up some milk on your way home, working late today :/  
Trying to focus on the points the judge makes instead of that fancy tie of his ^^

And barely a second later:

  
I love you Louis

Those four words - neither unheard nor surprising - suddenly weighed a thousand tons on the device whirringly heating up in his palm. If he had took in one thing, it was not to let love wait: For love was absolute - there was no lukewarm version of it - and what needed to be done could not be put off.  
You never know before when it’s too late.  
He had never thought he was one to make big decisions in a split second, but a single moment was was all it took him to be sure about this one. It made his guts roll with anticipation. He inhaled deeply - filling his lungs with the very first breath of a new chapter in his life.

 _You know that snowflakes symbolize a new beginning_ resounded in the back of his head as he turned to the already agitatedly rambunctious group, a broad smile brightening up his hollowed face and crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Kids, today we are going to do a table read of the first act. I hope you all brought your scripts and a pen?"  
With every line one of them managed without stumbling across their own words, he grew more profoundly sure of his choice of job. He had already missed teaching Drama for kids  
over the course of the two weeks he had spent up North; and at the sight of his eagerly reciting class, he could not hinder his heart from jumping when he thought of the wonderful little family Harry and he were hopefully to start one day.

The first step was to be done that evening.

 

+

 

He barely nodded his colleagues goodbye after eighth period, but instead stuffed his briefcase as quickly as possible. Even the old janitor must have sensed the excitement he radiated - he was met with a cheeky tip to the old-fashioned hat and a chuckled: "Happy news to spread, Mr Tomlinson?" as he stormed of to the parking lot as fast as it was acceptable for a teacher, bag dangling ridiculously at his frail back.  
He couldn't resist the urge to yell a bright "Hopefully soon" back over his shoulder.

Not being the only one to - at least kind of - know seemed to seal his decision - it was too late to step back now. His chest felt tight at the sound of these words.

Louis panted as he pushed open the door to his high school friend Emma's jeweller's. Exhausted, he propped his elbows on the counter. "It's time", he stated in a husky voice, meeting her gaze determinedly; and without missing a beat, the blonde woman handed him a little box she had kept in the top drawer. He took out his wallet, didn't need to glance at the price tag. Without hesitation he set his signature, not remotely trying to conceal his wide grin.

Emma reached over to take his hand and intertwined it with hers. She was wearing the quiet smile that had always been so typical for her.  
"Harry is a lucky man. I cross my fingers for you two."

 

+

 

Two hours later he wished he had booked dinner in a restaurant. Even with the help of the assortment of cookery books Harry had collected over the years, he seemed to be incapable of only slicing a potato the right way. And what on earth meant "to blanch"?

He anxiously stared at his watch, flinching at what he saw: Already five PM - he needed to hurry if he wanted to surprise Harry.

 

+

 

This brought the term "Last Minute" to a new definition, he smirked as he could hear Harry's key turn in the doorlock,  
and how he tried in vain to strip his boots without unlacing them - like every other day. Sure, the mashed potatoes were kind of burned, and the ham tasted too salty, and the kitchen was a single utter mess, but the table was set - complete with a bunch of white roses he had begged Laura from upstairs to bring. It looked homey with their wall of books and boardgames and Harry’s tons of Indie records in the background.  
Not homey like any home. Homey like theirs.

His knees buckled in glowing suspense as he waited for his boyfriend to enter the living room of their tiny flat, but his face stayed relaxed. Suddenly, it was easy as riding a bike.

Harry's mouth stood agape, lips forming a perfect lush "o". His hands fell in surprise.  
"Did you do that, darling?", he drawled in disbelief. Louis nodded proudly - his cheeks were already hurting from smiling so much. "Welcome to Se Domlinson Diner, Mr Styles, please take a seat", he said with overplayed galantery and the worst impression of a French accent, Yorkshire vowels clearly shining through: "Our first course will be chicken, mashed potatoes and Parma 'am."

Harry gave a low chuckle, combing his hair damp from the shower he had caught on his way home with the tips of his long fingers: "You are so weird. Why I love you."  
Those butterflies hadn't left Louis' stomach in the past three years.

They enjoyed the dinner, chatting about work and friends and not even touching the subject of the death of Louis' mother, but instead stealing sweet little pecks on the lips from time to time. A deep peacefulness filled both their hearts and faces.  
When they had finished they just sat for a little while, cherishing the magic of the moment. A kind of magic that had always been beyond just sexual tension: It was the magic of two souls mirroring each other.

Until Louis broke the silence. His voice was shaky, almost inaudible as he cleared his throat and said: "I was gonna wait until after dessert, darling. But it has already been too long ..."  
He could say Harry's eyes widen as he clumsily stood up and then got down on one knee, clutching the tiny box in his palm until his veins gaped out against the pale skin.

"Harry", he began, "I don't know where to start. I am so, so impossibly in love with you and this love seems to grow even deeper with every second I spend with you. I love you for your eyes, and for how you let your hair grow out and are the coolest lawyer of all times, and I love you for your silly sense of humour -"

Harry let out a shaky breath. His heart had apparently doubled the pace it was beating at. "Heeey", he mildly protested, but his gaze spoke of nothing but deep, heartfelt devotion. His hands were clenching, lips being bitten ruby red in an attempt to let Louis finish. The flickering yellow light of the candles on the table cast rugged shadows on his face.

"and for how you fall sound asleep and then steal my blanket every single night, and for how kind you are with children. I love you for every quirk and every song on the radio you have ever hummed to, and everything you gush about ...  
Harry, I have known for three years you would always stand with me through the good times. This last month has shown me that you are there for me in the darkest days of my life aswell. You make me want to be a better person with every last piece of my existence, and I will never stop cherishing you and longing for you, no matter what your answer to my question is, … so, yeah, I guess", he finished off, lamely. Suddenly unsure - had it been too much? - he glanced up again.

Harry was silently sobbing and looked more alive than Louis had ever seen him. "Harry Edward Styles", he said, voice growing stronger with each word he pronounced: "will you do me the incredible honor to call me your husband one day, even though I am the biggest sap in the world  
?"  
"Of course I will", Harry answered, voice trembling and soaked. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I wouldn't have you a ny other way ." He tried to dry his tears with the hem of his sleeve: It didn’t suffice.

The simple silver band with the single stone Louis had purchased didn't fit Harry's finger, but neither of them worried about it. They laughed relievedly, glancing amorously at each other: They would never be perfect, and neither would the reality they lived in - but what did it matter as long as they could fight their battles together?

Their first embrace as fiancés - Louis' stubble against Harry's smooth chin - spoke more than a book of words could. Louis heart was beating out of his chest, and it was still when they cleaned up the kitchen together, undefinable suspense between them, and when they afterwards popped a nice bottle of champagne he had found in the cupboard, a sole left-over from New Year’s Eve.

And later, when both of them were a little tipsy, Harry pulled Louis out in the nightly rain - to dance. His hands softly closed behind the other's slim waist, Louis placing gentle fingers on Harry's lean, wet shoulders. They started moving in consensual slowness, the constant sound of raindrops hitting the even asphalt washing away every other noise; and did not stop when their lips finally locked again.

Closed blossoms of the snowflakes in their neighbour's garden glowed in the dark like a bunch of fireflies.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic ever posted - please don't frenzy me for any grammatical mistakes; English is not my mothertongue.  
> If somebody wants to beta it, just let me know below :)  
> All the love and thx for reading
> 
> P.S.: As a LGBT myself I really value how accepting this fandom is - thank you for keeping it up, even when you don't ship them as a couple!


End file.
